Earth, Moon, and Sun
by MarchingPotterofStorybrooke
Summary: A two-part one-shot in which Sherlock finally learns about the solar system once and for all... just a (hopefully) cute little fic, more explanation/description inside :)
1. Part 1

**Hello everyone! So I haven't been on to upload anything in forever, but this fic idea just kinda slapped me in the face during Creative Writing and I gave it a shot :) In which Sherlock and John are the caretakers of Hamish, the baby John had with Mary before their marriage didn't work out (I know, I know, it's not a girl...) not really much romance-y stuff but mostly just stuff I thought would be cute :) Hope you like it, and part two should be on its way quite shortly :) **

**Part One**

_Today will be a day for the history books_, John mused as he made his way to Sherlock's room. He didn't bother knocking; he threw open the door and strode to the window, shoving aside the curtains to let the bleak London morning light fall into the room, casting a shadow over Sherlock's face as he turned away from the source of light.

But John wasn't having any of it today. Sherlock wasn't getting away from the destiny set by John H. Watson soon after they became flatmates- and best friends. Today, Sherlock would finally learn his way around the Solar System.

"C'mon, up," John said as he yanked away the covers from Sherlock's grasp, to reveal the pajamas John had bought him for Christmas. It was covered in yellow ducks with deerstalker hats and magnifying glasses, and made John grin. He and Molly had seen it in the window of a shop while looking for gifts, and had nearly had a heart attack from laughing so hard. Apparently they were the biggest sellers at the store, ever since Sherlock had returned a hero, the public loved him more than ever before.

Sherlock groaned and curled up into a ball. There was only one way to do this. John went into the room next door and found Hamish under the covers, pretending like he wasn't just on his phone at 7:30 on a Saturday morning. John had objected to the infernal device in the first place, but Sherlock got around it by giving it to the four-year-old as a birthday present anyways. Hamish giggled as John hauled him into the air and carried him to Sherlock's room, before unceremoniously plopping him on Sherlock's chest.

Just as John had expected, his son did the trick.

After the baby had been born, John and Mary had given their all to patch up their marriage and their family, and try to move forward. But too many mistakes were made on Mary's part, and in the end, it put the baby in danger. She brought down old enemies onto their household, and if Lestrade, Sherlock, and John hadn't arrived when they did… it made John's skin crawl at the thought of what might've happened. So, after a major blowout in which Mary took responsibility for her actions, it was decided. She was unfit to raise baby Hamish, and she knew it. After peaceful proceedings in court, parental rights were handed over to John, and Sherlock was made a legal guardian of the child as well. Mary always sent cards and gifts on occasions, but she rarely visited, and Hamish never seemed to be too torn up over it- he had Gramma Hudson, Gramma and Grampa Holmes, and Auntie Molly and Unca Greg, as he had dubbed them. Even Auntie Harry visited every once in a while.

Everyone loved that child and raised him with the boys as though he were their own, but none more so than Sherlock- and Hamish practically _was_ his son. Hamish was almost more like Sherlock than his own biological father. While Hamish was more outgoing and outspoken than both men, he acquired the best traits of both. He had Sherlock's uncanny mind for science, calculations, and memorization- and, of course, deduction. That talent had been carefully nurtured from a very young age, and Hamish really had a knack for it (well, as much as you could at the age of four).

But unlike Sherlock, and very much like John, he was lead much more by gut instinct than the facts in front of him. And, like John, he was much more affectionate to those he was closest with. This trait came in handy in John's endeavors to get Sherlock out of bed. Being only four, and unable to pronounce Sherlock yet, he simply called Sherlock "daddy," as easily as he did with his own father.

"Daddy!" he cried, bouncing up and down on Sherlock's chest until he sat up, hiding a smile as he lifted Hamish into the air, setting of a string of giggles. "Alright, Junior. Off you go to daddy," he said, handing off the toddler to John. "I'll be along in a moment, John. Fix some coffee, will you?" Sherlock had become much more affectionate after Hamish was born, nicknaming him junior and showing him a fondness the likes of which John had never seen before. He was always kinder and softer and gentler around Hamish, as though he had softened his calculating heart. John lifted Hamish to his shoulders and went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and set up for their big day.

**Sorry, this was more of a background+getting him out of bed part than anything, the silliness should be up soon :) Lots and lots of love to everyone, thanks for taking the time to read this!**


	2. Part 2

**Part two is here :D This is as far as the story is going, I'm afraid (although it's a one-shot, I just sort of felt that it worked better in two parts). Thanks so much for those of you who took the time to read this, and anyone who reviews, favorites, etc. :) Thank you also to my first (and at the moment, only) reviewer yesterday on anon, you put a smile on my face :)**

**You also brought up a good point, which I'd like to address here: _I can't for the life of me see Sherlock calling Hamish 'junior' as a __nickname. If anyone has a suggestion for what to replace that nickname with, I'd love to hear it, because I'm thinking of writing more Johnlock fluffiness in the future and a nickname would be nice :) Thanks!_**

**Sorry for the super-long author's note :P Love you all, and hope you enjoy!**

**Part Two **

"This is absolutely ridiculous, and a complete waste of time, Watson," Sherlock said with a glare after I told him why he was up so early on a Saturday morning. I rolled my eyes.

"Watson? You're addressing the father of the child you adore by his last name now, _Holmes?_" I said, folding my arms over my chest. I could see Hamish, who was refusing to come down from my shoulders, doing the same in his reflection in the window. Sherlock sighed, before a triumphant look crossed his face.

"Ah! Mycroft is coming for lunch, we have to tidy the flat!" he said, but I just shook my head.

"Already called him, and we've moved it to tomorrow. He wishes us luck, and informed me that I have to speak _very slowly to make sure you can keep up_," I said, speaking at a comically slow pace.

"But Mrs. Hudson-"

"Is on a weekend-long vacation in Cardiff, remember? We're to mind the locks at night and bring in her mail."

"Well, George-"

"_Greg_, Lestrade, already informed me that he has no jobs for you, at least not for today." Desperation was painted across his features.

"_Molly, _surely-"

"Has a day off from Bart's and is going out shopping with friends. Sends her love and well wishes for our endeavor today," John said. Sherlock slumped back into his chair, enacting a dramatic death due to boredom and defeat.

That was when Hamish started repeatedly smacking the top of my head, annoyed that he hadn't gotten attention after more than a minute or two. So I carefully plucked him from my shoulders and placed him in Sherlock's lap for him to deal with. Sherlock went about entertaining his nephew while I grabbed my computer and a few books I'd found. We were going to do this properly, and I meant it. But as soon as I appeared with these in hand, Sherlock panicked. So, he did what Sherlock found natural: He ran.

He just upped from his chair with Hamish in his arms and _bolted_ from the kitchen, forcing me to drop everything on the table and tear after him. He ran down the stairs and out the door, but I was close on his heels. After joining Sherlock in his invented occupation, I got used to running after him- and away from people. He flew down Baker Street with Hamish giggling away in his arms, waving at me over Sherlock's shoulder. Most people didn't even glance at us, most of London knew us well enough by now not to really question it anymore. Sherlock knew the streets better than I did though, so he darted down a side alley so fast that I skidded past it. I nearly turned to go follow him down it, before realizing that that was exactly what he expected and _wanted_ me to do. So I just kept running as fast as I could in the direction I was headed before, and crashed into them as they came out the other side, nearly falling over. Hamish's laughter at the whole adventure was infectious, and soon Sherlock and I were caught up in laughter as well. After we caught our breath, he conceded.

"Fine, do whatever you feel is necessary…" he said with a cringe. I laughed, and just tugged him along, not back to Baker Street, but to a place that I knew would interest him a lot more than a computer and some books.

We arrived at the planetarium after a short cab ride and a quick walk down the block, and Hamish was itching to get away from us as soon as he saw the huge building. I knew I would lose him in there if I let him loose though, so I held on tight, handing him off to Sherlock while I bought the tickets. I could hear him quietly muttering to Hamish.

"I don't understand his insistence on this either. Promise if it gets too boring you'll throw a fit? There's an ice cream in it for you," he muttered under his breath to Hamish. I pretended not to hear, and merely chuckled when, at the prospect of ice cream, Hamish so willingly agreed. We entered the planetarium, and all need for such a deal left Sherlock as he looked around him at the models in what I could only describe as _awe._ I'd never seen Sherlock amazed at something so… mundane, as the solar system, but amazed he was. When we entered the dark room where we just got to watch the stars on the ceiling as a voice washed over us from a loudspeaker, that was the best part. I'd never seen this emotion on Sherlock before. It was like an odd coat that he wore, and even though it didn't quite fit, it looked wonderful on him. He and Hamish were equally enthralled, if Sherlock wasn't more so. By the time we left, it was nearly dark. We had combed every inch of the planetarium, looked at every model and plaque, and talked to more curators than I could remember. When we finally left, Sherlock decided to buy Hamish ice cream anyways; it was a miracle in-and-of itself that a four year old managed to go for such a long period of time without throwing a fit anyways, ice cream or not. We all ate our ice cream in a peaceful quiet, before walking back to Baker Street. We put Hamish to bed soon after we arrived home, and once he was out, climbed the steps to the roof of 221B. We laid down on the rooftop and watched the stars in silence. I had never expected what I saw of Sherlock today. Even now, this was so uncharacteristic of him, so… _normal_ to be amazed by our universe, rather than the computer that just deleted the 'unnecessary' information. He finally spoke, but it was quieter and less sharp than his normal tone was, he spoke like when he talked to Hamish: with deep feeling.

"I have a theory, you see," he started off, slowly. "I believe that you, Hamish, and I, are the Earth, the Sun, and the Moon, respectively." I hmm'ed, wanting him to elaborate. "You see, you are so grounded, so real, so _tangible,_ you have all the problems anyone has, and you've seen a lot, just like this Earth has. Hamish is our very own Sun, the centre of our little universe and always the best of both worlds. And of course, I'm the moon, I'm the harshest of us all, cold and distant, as I've been told." He barely murmured the last part, but I could tell he believed it, and it made me… upset, to think that such a brilliant man couldn't see it.

"If you ask me, the moon is actually quite nice. It's what lights up even the darkest of times, even if it's so far away, and it's reassuring. It's a constant, just like the Sun," I said, but he was just silent. "Otherwise, I believe your theory is fact," I said, and Sherlock laughed.

"Aren't all of my theories proven to be fact?" he said, and I chuckled.

"Oh shove off, you egotistical prat," I said, nudging his ankle with my foot.

"Hamish is going to have quite a strange universe to take care of as he grows up, isn't he?" Sherlock mused.

"A very strange universe indeed," I said, and let the stars, the night, and- most of all- the moon, swallow me whole.


End file.
